Part 4

Wouldn't I have given Major a shake for his treatment of the frog if I had been there? I am so glad poor froggy revived, and went leaping off. I suppose he was quite exhausted by Major's rough play, and revived when he felt his native air as you crossed the bridge. Long life to him!

* * * * *

A NUTTING FROLIC.

Come, Robin and Lulu, Cornelia and Fred, And Daisy and Mollie, and Tommy and Ned, Call Rover and Fido, and hurry away; The nuts are just ripe for our frolic to-day.

The frost on the pasture this morning is white; For sharp was the cold in the silence of night. All the better; we'll race just to keep ourselves warm, And rush to the woods like the winds in a storm.

Poor Bunny will scamper far out of our sight, And watch our proceedings with eyes shining bright. We'll spare him a feast, for we couldn't be mean, And leave nothing there for a squirrel to glean.

Bring baskets and buckets and poles, if you please; We all will take turns at a shake of the trees; But the boys will work hardest, and laugh at the toil, And the girls shall go home with the best of the spoil.

Too bad we can't carry our lame little Ted, And that _we_ have such fun, while he's lying in bed. I'll tell you, we'll save just the finest for him, And give him three cheers when the day's growing dim.

Then home over lots with the stores we have won, For long winter evenings of frolic and fun, When we'll study our lessons, or merrily play, And eat the sweet nuts that we'll gather to-day.

* * * * *

I think some of the older readers of the Post-office Box will enjoy this beautiful description of the bells for which the little Roman children listen every winter evening. Some of you who have been abroad have heard them, and others who have never been across the sea are ready to learn all they can about the grand old city which once was the mistress of the whole known world:

THE BELLS OF SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE.

Any one who has been in Rome and lived on the Esquiline Hill must have been struck by the beautifully toned bells of Santa Maria Maggiore, the largest and finest church of the district. According to the legend, it was built in the year 354, on the spot where a miraculous shower of snow fell during the month of August--a most unlikely time for snow to fall anywhere, and most of all in Rome, where the heat is generally unbearable at that time. There is no end to the freaks of legend, or to the simplicity of credulous people who take legend for history. This legendary fall of snow is actually commemorated in the church at the present day by a service in the course of which white rose leaves are showered down from the roof of a side chapel to imitate falling snow.

To return to the bells. The stranger dwelling on the Esquiline must not only have been struck by their beauty when they rung at the usual hours during the day, he must have been also surprised by hearing a sonorous peal ringing out on the clear winter air two hours after dark. This is a most unusual time for the church bells to ring, as in the large churches of Rome there is, generally speaking, no evening service. Two hours after sunset in winter is a very convenient time for putting little children to bed; so the Roman mothers inhabiting the Esquiline are accustomed to tell their little ones that it is the Madonna, who is ringing the bells and calling out in bell-language, "Bambini, a letto!" or "Babies, to bed!" Then the little dark-eyed, curly-haired Roman cherubs, however much inclined to be refractory otherwise, are contented to let their mothers undress them. Then they say their little prayers, and go quietly to bed. If you ask seriously about the cause of the bells ringing at that unusual hour, the following pretty story about the campanile, or bell tower, which is of later date than the church itself, will be told you.

One dark winter night a wealthy Roman citizen was out late, and lost his way in the Campagna, or waste land outside the city. The Campagna is rather a dangerous place to get lost in, as it is wild and uncultivated, full of ruins and deep pits. It was infested at that time, besides, by robbers and lawless people of every kind. He wandered about for some time in darkness so thick that he could not see his finger before him. Sometimes he thought he had discovered some well-known landmark, and fancied that now he would soon find the right path, but after groping about for a while in the black darkness he would suddenly discover that he had been moving about in a circle, and was no nearer the goal than before. Weary, exhausted, and utterly discouraged, dreading, besides, with every step he took, to fall into some pit and break his neck, he almost resolved in despair to give up the effort to reach home that night. It was a starless, inclement night, and bitterly cold. He was just about to sink upon the wet ground, and yield to the sleep brought on by cold and exhaustion, from which he would probably never have wakened more; already his eyes were closing. Suddenly he thought he heard the tinkle of a well-known bell. He listened intently, and recognized the bells of the new bell tower of Santa Maria Maggiore, which were being rung that evening for some unknown cause. This sound revived his drooping courage. He knew now where he was. After some more groping, guided still by the sound of the bells, he succeeded in finding the highway, and reached his home at last in safety. In grateful remembrance of his escape, being a wealthy man, he bequeathed a large sum of money forever to the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore; it was to be employed to pay the ringers to ring a peal every evening, two hours after dark, during six months of the year. This has been done faithfully during many centuries. So should any poor wayfarer lose his way in the wild Campagna on a gloomy winter night, he may have a chance of finding it again in safety. They are very beautiful bells, and when they ring out full and clear about half past seven on a winter evening, the Roman mothers, as I mentioned above, say to their little children: "Hark to the bells, which say, Babies, to bed! Pray for all poor wanderers this night."

E. M. TRAQUAIR.

* * * * *

TABLE ROCK, NEBRASKA.

I have been wanting to write a letter to you for a long time, but have never done it until now. I have five brothers, and I am the only girl in the family. Papa has taken HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE for us ever since it began. I want to tell you about our circulating library. There are three families of us. We all take magazines, and exchange. There were four families, but one went to Falls City to live. We take HARPER'S MONTHLY and YOUNG PEOPLE. I would tell you what the rest take, only I am afraid if I did my letter would be too long to print. I like the Wiggles very much. I think our artist's idea of Wiggle No. 28 is so cute. I hope you can print this, and surprise my brothers.

GERTIE B.

I think this idea of exchanging magazines and papers, as the families in Gertie's neighborhood do, is a very good one. I am sure the little circulating library will give pleasure to both young and old in the three homes. An only sister who has five brothers to love is in a very important place. Think of all the mittens she must mend, the strings she must fasten, the knots she must untie, and the gentle words she must speak. I hope she has a great many rides on brothers' sleds, and is taken care of and admired by all the boys, as she ought to be.

* * * * *

FORT CRAIG, NEW MEXICO.

You asked me, a long time ago, to explain what a bucking bronco was. Well, I'll try to do so now. Ha! ha! ha! I should think you could hear me laugh. Why, a bronco is a horse that has never been broken to ride or drive, and when you get on for the first time, the bronco is generally sure to buck. Now when a bronco bucks he just looks like a big billy-goat, with long goatee and chin whiskers, spreading himself in front of a big looking-glass, and jumping up in the air, striking the ground stiff-legged.

Now what else do I learn besides riding and shooting? Why, until a week ago we had a splendid teacher, Mr. S. He's just the best teacher. And talk about playing the fiddle!--he can make it talk, and so he can make the guitar almost sing. Sister Eva is studying the guitar, and I am studying the violin. Professor S. teaches school and music, but he went off in the mountains lately for a trip with an officer of the army, and he will not be back for a couple of weeks. Since he left, our Mexican boy herder did the same, and now I am up every morning at five, and off with the horses and cattle before six, and only take a lunch with me, and stay out until sundown. I ride a good horse, have a shepherd dog, and go about three to four miles to good water and grass.

And you think Sis and I might sketch. Well, so we do. I did not know what you meant by botanize until papa told me. He just loves flowers, and has devoted a great deal of time to cultivating some this summer. He has succeeded, after planting about one hundred plants and several million seeds. We can--with a magnifying-glass--discover one or two pumpkin vines which were sent him from the East as "beautiful climbers," and one or two morning-glories. Some of the geraniums have done well, but all the rose-trees died. As to a cabinet, we have none; but we have some of the most beautiful specimens of minerals, crystallized quartz, copper, galena, spar, "white and black" silver, silver glance, native gold and silver, and all kinds of carbonates.

And now I think I have said almost too much for one time. So, with best wishes to all the little folks--and big folks too--who read YOUNG PEOPLE, I will say _adios_.

HARRY W. C.

P.S.--You may think that I wrote all of this letter, but I did not. I asked papa to copy it for me, and he said things different from what I had it, and more of it too. Next time I will only ask him to punctuate and correct the spelling. It took me four nights to write this letter.

HARRY.

* * * * *

Trotty trot, trotty trot, trotty trot, trot!-- What a fit of the fidgets that youngster has got! From the dawning of morning till dew wets the ground He's trotting and dancing and skipping around, With his wagon behind him, his dog at his side, Or with whip in his paddy, my old cane astride. His boots are bedusted, his hair in a fright; He's the picture of healthy unbounded delight. Oh! a package of steel springs, a bundle of joy, Is this gay romping Charlie, our own bouncing boy.

W. W. RUNYAN. MARION, NEW YORK.

* * * * *

NEW YORK CITY.

I am a little girl eleven years old. I take lessons and feel a great interest in music, but I find it very difficult. I have several pets--a dove, a cat, a doll, and a sweet little sister named Selma. On Wednesday my teacher was teaching us botany, and she said if you should take a glass or tumbler and fill it with water, and put some white cotton-batting in it, and sprinkle some seeds on the cotton, they would soon take root. So the first thing I did when I got home was to fix it, and the next week I looked and there were little stems coming up from the seeds. I love the Post-office Box, and I think some stories very interesting. I like "The Cruise of the Canoe Club" very much. This is the first letter I ever attempted to write.

LILLIE V. P.

* * * * *

NORTHVIEW, DAKOTA TERRITORY.

You will be glad, dear Postmistress, to hear from one of your twelve-year-old boys. I live in Dakota, on Section 20, Town 142, Range 54. This is a good country. My father has in 200 acres of wheat this year. The St. Paul, Minneapolis, and Manitoba Railroad runs near our place. The Northview Post-office is kept here; mamma is postmistress. My cousin takes HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. I read it as soon as he does. We have a little dog and cat; the dog's name is Carlo. Carlo and the cat will drink milk together. I have a pet crane; his name is Dick; he is about half-grown.

A. B. R.

* * * * *

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS.

My name is Alice, and I am ten years old. I have a sister nine years old. She don't take HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, but I do. She can not read much yet. We both go to school, but not to the same one. Next year we may go together. I am always sorry when school begins, for I don't like to go at all. Good-by,

ALICE S.

Why, Alice, what can be the reason you do not like to go to school? Perhaps you will enjoy it more when you are a little older.

* * * * *

MATAGORDA, TEXAS.

As it seems to be the fashion for children to write to the paper, I will try to do so. I live in the country, and can ride horseback, milk cows, climb trees, and do various other things that only country children know how to do. My papa has a boat, and we sometimes go down with him to Matagorda Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. We went on a fishing excursion this summer, and saw the snowy sand mounds on the Peninsula, and went bathing in the Gulf.

CHERRY.

* * * * *

HARTWICK, MICHIGAN.

I saw a deer a few days ago in our woods. It was very pretty. Papa saw an old bear and two cubs about a mile from here last July, and a few days ago a neighbor saw one in the same place.

GUY L. S.

I would advise you to keep away from those woods, Guy, unless you have a strong party of friends with you, for Madame Bear is sometimes a dangerous person to meet.

* * * * *

JACKSONVILLE, ILLINOIS.

I am a boy nine years old, but will soon be ten. My brother, who is in the United States army, sends me HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE for a Christmas present. I think it is the best paper ever published for little boys and girls. I have a great many pets. I have a mocking-bird, an Esquimaux dog, a horse, a cow, two pigs, and a great many chickens. Please print this letter; it is the first I have ever written.

A. L. W.

* * * * *

COATOPA STATION, ALABAMA.

Though no longer young, nor by any means small, I read YOUNG PEOPLE with as much interest as my children, and think I can place no better book in their hands.

I read with much interest Arthur Lindsley's article on humming-birds, and must differ with him about their food. I have caught them--the ruby-throat and another, which I will describe hereafter--several times, and they never fail to get over their fright in a few minutes, and drink eagerly of sugar and water offered to them in a spoon. I have held them in my open hand, and had them to chirp and flutter their wings as they sipped from the spoon, just as they do when hovering over a flower. We have a large mimosa-tree which when in bloom is the resort of hundreds of "flying sunbeams," as we call them. The kind referred to above is a bird in every particular except the bill, which is that of a butterfly, long and tightly curled.

V. S. PARKER.

* * * * *

WAPPINGER'S FALLS, NEW YORK.

I am a little boy eight years old the 2d of October. I have three brothers--Johnnie, Watson, and Bertie. Johnnie and I go to school. I am learning to read and write. I tried to write this letter, but I thought you could not read it, so I got papa to write it for me. I like papa to read those letters that are in YOUNG PEOPLE for me, and some of the stories. I have no pets, but I have a cunning little brother Bertie, four months old; Johnnie is five years and Watson three years. We had lots of rain a week ago. It rained two days, and it flooded our basement, and the creek was very full.

HENRY C.

* * * * *

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.

I am a little boy nine years old. I have two pet rabbits, and their names are Snowflake and Killy, and they both are as white as snow. I feed them on cabbage, carrots, plantain, corn bread, grass, clover, and apples. I also have two white mice; I feed them on bread and milk. The other day I was cleaning their cage, and one of them escaped, but I soon caught him again.

HARRY L. W.

* * * * *

This week the Postmistress suggests two more games which the young people may try:

CATCHING THE MOUSE.

Nine players lay their hands one on the top of the other. The one whose hand is lowest draws it out and puts it at the top, saying, "_One!_" The next lowest draws out hers, puts it at the top, and cries, "_Two!_" And so on until "_Nine!_" is cried. This last player seizes one of the hands which lie beneath her own (or more if she can), crying, "I have caught the mouse!" and then the hand caught pays a forfeit.

But it is not easy to catch one. At the word "_Nine!_" all snatch away their hands as quickly as possible.

This game must be played very quickly to be funny.

EVEN OR ODD?

This game is the most ancient, I think, that we know. The children who played in the streets of Athens and in the Roman Forum in early ages knew and loved it, and little children find amusement in it still. It is played in this manner: One child hides in her hand a few beans, nuts, almonds, or even bits of paper, and asks her companion to guess if they are _odd_ or _even_.

If the playfellow guesses _odd_, and on opening her hand the other displays an _odd_ number, she forfeits the articles to the guesser, who hides them in her turn; but if the guess is _odd_, and the number _even_, the guesser pays a forfeit, and the first hider retains the beans, etc. The guess must be right to win.

* * * * *

Little Marion W., who is five years old, and lives in Newtonville, Massachusetts, wants a pretty name for her baby brother, who is just two months old, and ever so cunning! Who will send a name which will fit this dear little man.

Marion printed the letter and directed it herself in quite a wonderful way for such a tiny correspondent. Will she kiss the baby for the Postmistress?

* * * * *

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

WORD SQUARE.

1. A boy's name. 2. A girl's name. 3. A reward of merit. 4. Gay and happy. 5. A town in Massachusetts.

JUNEBUG.

* * * * *

No. 2.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

My primals and finals which puzzle your head Give the name of a great book whose author is dead. First cross-word--A native of the desert. Second cross-word--A fruit of the desert. Third cross-word--Emotion caused by grandeur. Fourth cross-word implies possession.

NUTSHELL.

* * * * *

No. 3.

TWO EASY ENIGMAS.

1.

First in clouds, not in sky. Second in low, not in high. Third in chick, not in egg. Fourth in ankle, not in leg. Whole is needed in every house, Though vain to frighten rat or mouse.

MAY LARIA.

2.

First in pin, not in ring. Second in queen, not in king. Third in east, not in west. Fourth in coat, not in vest. Fifth in harp, not in flute. Whole is a delicious fruit.

HATTIE LANDON.

* * * * *

No. 4.

WHO KNOWS?

What word is that from which if the first letter or the last letter, or the first and last letters, be taken, a word in each case remains? Also the first and last letters form a word.

MUSA.

* * * * *

No. 5.

CHARADE--(_To Will A. Mette_).

My first is a vessel you often have seen, Without my second 'twould broken have been. My whole is a place where school-boys find Articles dainty and much to their mind.

EDGAR SEEMAN.

* * * * *

No. 6.

AN EASY DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

1. A four-footed friend. 2. A river in Siberia. 3. Something very strong and durable. 4. Calm. Primal is dearly loved by final.

* * * * *

No. 7.

THREE EASY DIAMONDS.

1.--1. A letter. 2. A serpent. 3. To attempt. 4. A caress. 5. A letter.

2.--1. A letter. 2. A shelter. 3. A bird. 4. A metal. 5. A letter.

PUSS IN BOOTS.

3.--1. A letter. 2. To plunder. 3. A purchasing medium. 4. A piece of furniture. 5. A letter.

EDITH M. L.

* * * * *

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 153.

No. 1.

Umbrella. Catamaran. Kosciuski.

No. 2.

Adding insult to injury.

Add. In. Gin. Insult. Rout. Jury.

No. 3.

Y O U N G O W N E R U N C L E N E L L Y G R E Y S

No. 4.

C U D C A N E D C A L T R O P U N T W I N E D E R I D E R D O N E E P E R

No. 5.

H W T W E D W H O B I N H E L E N W H A L E T I G E R D E W O L D N E T N E R

* * * * *

Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Archy Damer, Tip Laurence, Lucie S. Downing, Clara Roe, Nettie Rice, John Brown, Alfred M. Bloomingdale, Little Fay, William A. Lewis, M. E. F., Alice Ashe, T. C. S. D., "Fanchon," Bessie B., Mattie Colt, Eugene Ripley, Samuel Dorr, Emily Van Lown, Arthur May, L. Corbet, Doroville S. Coe, Helen M. Everett, L. Bridge, Josie Willett, Alice Comstock, Emily Bradford, Guido T., Frank and Benny, and Archy D.

* * * * *

[_For Exchanges, see 2d and 3d pages of cover._]

A NEW SERIAL.

* * * * *

NAN.

By MRS. JOHN LILLIE,

Author of "Mildred's Bargain," "Aunt Ruth's Temptation," etc.

Our girl readers will be glad to hear that they are about to have a fresh and delightful story from the pen of their favorite author, Mrs. Lillie. The new serial will be begun in the next number of YOUNG PEOPLE, and will occupy a prominent place in our paper for several weeks. "Nan" is a "girl's story," but we venture to say that there is no one of our boy readers but will be delighted to follow this charming little heroine through the various adventures and difficult experiences she meets with, and in which she carries herself with such true heroism and noble patience.

TOO BAD!

BY MARGARET EYTINGE.

Beneath the old tree near the well Wee Molly, Dolly, Polly Gray A lovely red-cheeked apple found One beautiful October day. She looked at it with longing eyes A moment, then she gave a sigh, And sitting down upon the ground Straightway began to cry.

With hurried steps her mother came, "What is the matter, child?" to say. "Oh dear! this apple is so big," Sobbed Molly, Dolly, Polly Gray; "And"--faster fell her tears, as though Hers was the saddest of all plights-- "My mouf's so small I've got to take Such--very--little--bites."

* * * * *

THOSE SQUIRRELS.

BY ALLAN FORMAN.

"Say, Tom, the kitten's are gone," announced my brother Charlie, peering into the manger where we had a few days before discovered Madame Puss and her family snugly installed.

"Is Puss there?" I asked.

"Yes, and she seems awful lonesome," was the reply.

After a few moments' consultation we decided to ask Pat if he had seen anything of the kittens.

"Sure they may have strayed away in the night."

"But they couldn't walk. They were only three days old," I objected.